Quick Transmigration: The Sweetheart Everyone Loves Is Stuck in Romantic Chaos Every Day - Chapter 48

All eyes turned toward the newcomer, gasps of admiration rippling through the crowd.

It seemed the young girl had run all the way here—her hair was slightly mussed.

Her fair, delicate face was dusted with a faint blush, and her glistening peach blossom eyes shimmered with moist, bewitching red, as if hooks were hidden within them, tugging at the hearts of all who looked her way.

She wore a layered, gauzy gown; the bright pale shade only made her skin appear more flawless than snow.

The neckline was slightly open, revealing the soft rise and fall of her chest. Her waist was so slender it could be encircled in one hand—exquisitely alluring.

Luo Qingli froze for a moment, the astonishment in his eyes impossible to hide. But when he finally regained his senses, his brows furrowed without him realizing.

“What are you doing here?”

This banquet he hosted was meant for scholarly discussion and artistic exchange.

In the past, the princess consort had never attended, and Luo Qingli had never invited her—because she truly had no talents worth showing.

After all, from childhood she had only ever chased after him; when would she have had time to study?

But now, the reason Luo Qingli didn’t want her here… was different.

The way those men stared greedily at his princess consort left him unreasonably irritable.

Tuoba Hong also recovered from his moment of awe and quickly sensed something was off. He asked with concern:

“Did something happen to Your Highness the Princess? Why did you run here in such a hurry?”

Ruan Tang’s cheeks flushed even deeper. After a moment’s hesitation, her plump, dewy lips parted shyly, her voice soft and gentle.

“I got lost… I was afraid I’d miss the banquet, so I ran.”

Lost?

Tuoba Hong couldn’t help but laugh aloud.

He immediately lifted a hand to cover his twitching lips, coughed lightly, and said:

“Next time, remember to have a servant lead the way.”

Ruan Tang’s blush deepened further.

“I got lost in my own house, please lead me”—how could she say something so humiliating to anyone? Too embarrassing!

“And this is…?”

The foreign youth stared at the unexpected beauty without blinking.

Luo Qingli shifted slightly, blocking his view of Ruan Tang, his voice icy.

“She is this prince’s consort.”

“Oh… the so-called ‘good-for-nothing’ princess consort?”

Luo Qingli’s expression instantly chilled.

Tuoba Hong’s hand went to his sword, his voice full of warning.

“Watch your words. Offend Her Highness again, and I won’t be so polite.”

“Apologies, apologies.”

Helian Zijun tossed out the apology carelessly, then switched to stiff, awkward Chinese to address Ruan Tang.

“You want to compete with me in the zither?”

Ruan Tang nodded. “Mm.”

Helian Zijun’s lips curled into a mischievous smile.

“If you’d come a bit earlier, you could’ve seen your prince lose miserably. ‘First scholar of the Li Kingdom,’ was it? Hah… so-so.”

Ruan Tang suddenly stepped closer, closing the distance between them, and lifted her glistening peach blossom eyes to gaze at him intently.

Helian Zijun’s heart skipped a beat, and for a moment, he forgot what he had been about to say.

Ruan Tang smiled sweetly.

“You can say what you like about me… but don’t speak badly of him.”

Her voice was soft and sweet, utterly without aggression—yet somehow, firmly resolute.

Luo Qingli’s gaze snapped toward Ruan Tang, complex emotions surging in his eyes.

Helian Zijun’s smile faded. He regarded her quietly.

“Oh? Just as they say—you’re utterly devoted to your husband.”

This time, Ruan Tang didn’t answer. Instead, she asked:

“Since you call me a good-for-nothing princess consort… if I beat you, wouldn’t that make you even worse than a good-for-nothing?”

Helian Zijun gave a short laugh.

“You’re welcome to try. If I lose, I’ll kowtow to you three times and call you ‘Mother’ right here on the spot. How’s that?”

Ruan Tang’s eyes widened; she covered her mouth in surprise.

“Goodness—so ruthless to yourself?”

Helian Zijun didn’t take her seriously.

This so-called princess consort knew nothing of music, chess, calligraphy, or painting—what was there to fear?

Even Luo Qingli, Li Kingdom’s number one talent, had been defeated by him. What could she possibly do?

“As you people say in Li Kingdom, ‘A gentleman’s word is as hard to chase as four galloping horses.’ I keep my promises.”

He looked at her again.

“And if you lose?”

Ruan Tang’s face was all innocent sincerity. “Then I’ll kowtow to you three times and call you ‘Mother’ too.”

Helian Zijun almost lost his composure. “I’m a man!”

“Oh… then I’ll call you ‘Respected Father’ three times instead?”

The young man’s gaze lingered on her. Hearing her soft, honeyed voice utter such a solemn title, for some reason, brought entirely un-solemn images to his mind.

A faint blush flashed across his face.

He hurriedly turned away and coughed.

“It’s settled then. Let’s begin.”

And so, under a flurry of murmurs, the competition began.

Even Luo Qingli, who rarely showed emotion, couldn’t keep his expression from darkening. His hands, hidden within his sleeves, clenched into fists.

“Utter nonsense!”

Tuoba Hong gave a wry smile. “Looks like she really does like you.”

Luo Qingli’s expression softened slightly.

“Of course. You’ve no idea how long she’s pestered me.”

Tuoba Hong had indeed witnessed Ruan Tang clinging to Luo Qingli many times before… but today, for some reason, she seemed different.

“Don’t you think she’s changed?”

Luo Qingli’s brow arched. “You mean she’s fallen out of love with me?”

Tuoba Hong nearly choked on his drink.

“That’s not what I mean! I just… feel like she’s a different person today. And besides, she hasn’t been doting on you the way she usually does.”

Luo Qingli’s face darkened again, and he slammed his cup onto the table.

“You’re imagining things.”

She liked him.

His gaze drifted toward the crowd—toward his princess consort.

She definitely liked him. No question.

Hadn’t she just defended him moments ago? And now, for his sake, she was willing to throw herself into this ridiculous match, even if it meant striking an egg against a rock.

Truly… a fondness that clung no matter how you tried to shake it off.

Even so, a small smile tugged at his lips.

“Bring a zither for the princess consort.”

The one he had been using had broken a string earlier—it couldn’t be played.

“No need,” Ruan Tang quickly said. “I’ll use his.”

Everyone froze.

Helian Zijun was also taken aback, his cat-like eyes widening in confusion.

“You use mine—then what am I supposed to use? Play the air?”

The delicate, doll-like girl sat down beside him, her snow-white hands lightly resting on the strings. She turned to him with a bright-eyed smile.

“We’ll play together—you use the right hand, I’ll use the left.”

The crowd was stunned.

Play together? How?

Could she predict his melody with perfect accuracy and match him flawlessly?

Impossible.

Leaving aside how much skill and coordination a two-person performance required—not to mention repeated practice beforehand—the challenge was enormous.

How could she possibly foresee the course of his foreign, unfamiliar melody?

A tune so strange that even playing it normally was difficult enough—yet in a duet, even the slightest error was unacceptable. It would be harder than hard.